Brando guards his secrets to the last

As private in death as he was for much of his life, Marlon Brando issued instructions months ago that details of his final hours and arrangements for his funeral be withheld from the press and public, it emerged yesterday.

Jay Kantor, a long-time friend, said Brando had been ill 'on and off' for a long time, but that, when it came, his death was sudden.

'The last time I saw him, he looked fine, but he was admitted to hospital on Wednesday night,' he added. 'He passed away peacefully. There were a couple of family members present. The funeral arrangements are going to be very private, as Marlon requested.'

Filling the information vacuum created by the actor's desire for privacy were countless rumours, among them that Brando had written a script for the service, that Jack Nicholson - Brando's friend and neighbour - would lead the mourners, and that his ashes would be spread on Tetiaroa, the Tahitian island that Brando bought in the late 1960s for $270,000 and retired to for much of his life.

Brando, who died on Thursday at the UCLA Medical Centre in Los Angeles from a lung condition at the age of 80, leaves an enduring legacy as an actor and a personal history marked by tragedy, much of it - though not all - self-inflicted.

It would have pained Brando - who espoused civil rights and pro-environment causes - to find President George W Bush among those paying homage. 'With the passing of Marlon Brando, America has lost a great actor of the stage and screen,' Bush said.

'His award-winning performances in films such as On the Waterfront and The Godfather demonstrated his outstanding talent and entertained millions. Marlon Brando was one of the 20th century's finest actors and will be missed by his many fans and admirers.'

In Los Angeles yesterday, fans and well-wishers laid flowers on Brando's star on Hollywood Boulevard. 'I am a young actor and got into acting because of Brando,' said Steve Arriaga, whose single red rose was joined by a spray of white gladioli and roses sent by Hollywood's honorary mayor, Johnny Grant.

Until shortly before his death, Brando's glorious career was reduced to accepting occasional roles in critically panned movies simply for the money.

His off-screen life, meanwhile, became a staple of the supermarket tabloids, which never tired of reporting alleged eccentricities, excesses and personal battles. Some of these reports may even have been true, as Brando himself once acknowledged. 'I'm a balding, middle-aged failure,' he said. 'I've tried everything - fucking, drinking, working. None of them means anything.'

His long-running problems with obesity - he was once hospitalised for eating too much ice cream - and battles against depression were well documented. So, too, were his numerous affairs and run-ins with former lovers and ex-employees. He married three times and had nine children, reportedly with five women, and adopted two others.

According to Patricia Bosworth, whose biography of Brando was published in 2001, Brando's descent into dark self-loathing began with the onset of his success as an actor, then spiralled out of control after the incident in 1990 that led to his first son, Christian, being accused of shooting the lover of Brando's daughter, Cheyenne.

Christian was eventually convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to 10 years, despite Brando's appeal for clemency. 'I tried to be the best father I could be. I did the best I could,' he said from the witness stand.

In recent months, there have been persistent reports that he was facing severe financial difficulties, the residual effect of paying for his son's trial defence (said to have cost $5 million), as well as maintaining his Tahitian island and fighting various lawsuits, among them a $65 million claim from a former maid with whom he had three children.

According to Los Angeles-based author Patricia Ruiz, who claimed she is writing a biography of Brando to be published this year, the actor survived on a $5,000-a-month pension from the Screen Actors' Guild, a $2,000 government pension and 'small' residual cheques from television screenings of his movies.

In an interview attended by a writer from The Observer in 1955, Brando was asked if he believed in immortality. He replied: 'I can't think - I can't believe - that we're just here for one gnashing, stomping moment and that's all.'